An Alchemical Hell
by Scoopicus
Summary: In a darker alternate FMA timeline, Amestris is left all but destroyed at the hands of a terrible cataclysm. The Elric Brothers and Colonel Roy Mustang escape to America. But this land may become a greater hell than they have come to know.
1. The Unwanted Visitors

Colonel Mustang keeled over the railing of the boat and vomited. The sides of the ship were where he had spent most of the trip. He thought too late that someone whose state name was "The Flame Alchemist" wouldn't be able to travel across the Atlantic without any ill effects.

"Oh god," he gasped, coming back up. "Why did I ever-" he got out before he threw up again. If he had known this would happen he would have just stayed in Amestris and left for Germany or France or somewhere on the same continent.

All the while, Edward just watched, sitting against a large shipping container. He had been sitting there for the last few hours, but the Colonel had just came up and keeled over the rail a few minutes ago.

"The Colonel…" Ed thought. He couldn't really be called that anymore. The government, and perhaps even that government's ruler, that had bestowed the rank upon him had perished. He was no longer Colonel Mustang. Now he was just Mustang. Ed was sure he had a first name, but it had been so long since he had used it that he didn't remember it.

"Hey, Mustang?" Ed asked.

"What?" He almost yelled, coming up from the rail once again.

"I was just wondering what your first name was."

"Didn't I already tell you?"

"I don't know. I guess."

"It's Roy, alright? Why do you want to know?"

"I was just wondering." He stopped for a second. "Have you seen Al?"  
"Yeah, he's near the head of the ship. Now could you go away? I think I'm going to-AUGH!" Once more, Mustang bent over the rail.

"Yeah, have fun with that," Ed replied, getting up and walking off.

Ed looked across the deck. It was littered with containers and crates. He remembered the captain of this vessel telling him it was an old carrier, used for shipping supplies across continents.

Ed had never met someone as strange as the captain. He had seen chimeras, he had seen the alchemy of a Philosophers Stone, he even had been through the portal of truth. But the captain was one of the oddest things he had ever been around. He spoke with some odd drawling accent that Ed couldn't even describe. He wore this odd hat that looked a bit like a fedora, but was much bigger. He had told Ed and Al stories from his travels around the world. He had seen ice monsters in Russia, dragons in England, and so many other things. Ed didn't believe him, but Al sure did. But there was one disturbing thing about him that Ed did believe.

The captain was from America.

America was the country they were headed to, and all they heard about it were some very awful things. That it was a country that revolved around war and conflict, and that it had acquired the power to win any that it had started in its short time on this earth. If that was true for its citizens, who know what the captain may have done, or what he might do?

"Hey, sonny, can ya gimme a hand with this here net?"

Ed looked up from his trancelike state and over to the left of the boat. Al and the captain (Speak of the devil) were sitting on the side of the boat, holding a net.

"What are you guys doing?" Edward asked.

"We're fishing, Ed!" said Al "It's actually pretty fun."

"Ok, but why do you need my help?"

"Because," the captain yelled, "whatever is on the other end of this here net is heavier than my second wife, god rest her soul. Just come here and help!"

Ed put the image out of his head and went over to the edge, grabbing the net.

"Ok, on three," said Al. "One… two… three!"

They all pulled on the net simultaneously. There must have been something big on the other end, because it wasn't coming up.

"Damn it, it won't come up." Ed swore.

"Hold on," said Al, kneeling down to the deck. "I think I have an idea…" He pulled a piece of chalk from seemingly nowhere and began to draw on the deck.

"Now, hold on," the captain complained, "you'd better not do any of that magic shit, or I'll-"

But he was a second too late. Al slammed his hands to the steel deck and slowly raised them. A large metal reel slowly formed and rose from the deck, cable and all. When it was all formed right, he took the cable, formed a hook on the end, and hooked it onto the net.

"Good idea, Al," said Ed. He really was impressed. Al wasn't too great with alchemy. Ed remembered when his hair was almost burned off, and he just perfectly formed a spool with a crank.

"God damn it, kid, I said no! Now you gone and fucked up my boat!"

"Quit complaining," said Al, "I'll put it back later. Just let me get the net up."

The captain mumbled something about a "stupid tin can" and Al cranked on the reel. Even with the pulley and Al's strength, it was difficult.

"I think it's snagged, Al. Just let it go."

"No, hold on, it's giv-AH!" Al yelled in surprise as the cable ripped in half and plunged into the ocean. They all looked over the rail at the water below, but couldn't see anything odd.

"Well, now what the Sam-hell was that?"

"I don't know," said Edward, "but whatever it was, I'm just glad it didn't get yanked up onto the deck."

"Hold on," said the captain, "how long have we been traveling?"

"Um, a week, I think," Al replied.

"Aw, shit."

"What? What is it?"

"I, uh, I think-"

Suddenly there was a large boom and a huge wave of water splashed onto the deck and all over them.

"What the hell was that!" Ed yelled

"It was an ocean mine. The net got snagged on it and went off."

"WHAT?" Al began to panic. "YOU MEAN WE'RE SINKING?"

"Now calm down boy, that was just a signal mine, sort of a warning flare. It dives to a safe level and then goes off. It told us we're entering the controlling nation's waters. It's probably American."

Both Al and Edward looked at each other, not sure weather to be happy or uneasy.

Ed looked back at the captain and asked, "You mean THIS," gesturing towards the ocean, "is how America greets immigrants?"

"Well, usually they get a little warning and disable them before incoming ships take a certain path, but typically, yeah."

"How do they disable them?" asked Al, now intrigued.

"Look, I don't have time to teach you American 101. I got to go sail a ship. I've spent enough time screwing around down here, fishing and mine detecting and whatnot." Ed and Al watched the captain walk off, when he turned around and pointed to the reel of cable formed from the deck. "And fix my god damned boat!"


	2. Boarding Proceedures

That night Edward lay sleepless in his cot below deck. He was tired and tried to fall asleep, but it wouldn't come to him. The thought of being near this weird country gave him the creeps. What kind of government nearly blows up incoming boats on purpose? It wasn't like him to ponder about something like this, but he couldn't help but wonder what this place was like. It kept him up all night. Though he was tired, he decided to get dressed and walk to the deck.

"Where are you going?" asked Mustang groggily as he passed his cot. He wasn't wearing anything but boxers and an undershirt.

"Just upstairs onto the deck. I can't sleep right now."

"Neither can I, actually. I keep thinking about what happened in Amestris. It was just so awful. All those people died…"

"I can't stop thinking about this 'America' place. I'm just trying to put Amestris behind me. And as for my friends… I just hope they're going to be ok."

"I don't know. I just know that I'm never going back. We told our friends and family where we were going. They'll come in a year or two if they lived."

Ed was beginning to get uneasy with the conversation. "Uh, like I said, I'm going to go up to the deck. You want to join me?"

"No thanks, I'll just lay here and try to fall asleep. If I look at any more water I think I'll retch again. You go, I think Al walked up a few hours ago."

Edward walked on towards his goal. He slowly climbed the stairs, worn out from a night of sleeplessness. The cool ocean air was a bit awakening. It was so foggy that he couldn't see anything. Too tired to realize what he was doing, he began to walk to the back of the carrier. The end in which he was sleeping was the front, and with his slow pace and the great length of the boat, he could be walking for a while.

While he walked, he thought about something. How would they get their bodies back? He and Al lost all of their research on the Philosophers Stone and anything else they could use when the disaster began. They might not even know what alchemy is in this country, much less know how to use it to help them. A wave of sadness swept over Ed. They may not actually ever get back to their original forms. Ed could handle the automail limbs. But Al was trapped in that suit of armor, and Ed could tell it was pure hell. He couldn't physically feel anything, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't even eat. Al was technically 14, but he hadn't seemed to have matured or aged much since he had been bound to the armor. (Thankfully Al was pretty mature for his age) He really wasn't even human.

And then there was the other thing Ed was researching behind Al's back…

"Brother, is that you?"

Edward looked up and to the left. He walked over a bit to see Al sitting on the edge of the boat, holding a fishing rod.

"Yeah. What are you doing out here?"

"Just doing some fishing."

"You're fishing now? Why?"

"Well, there's not much else to do. Besides, the captain said night is the best time to fish."

"Whatever makes you happy." Ed sat down next to Al. "So what's been going on? Did you catch anything?"

"No, not yet. But it sure beats sitting below deck doing nothing."

"I don't really see how. You're just sitting up here doing nothing."

"I guess I just find more excitement in what might happen than you do."

"I guess so."

Edward and Al just sat there, looking at the ocean. Neither of them said anything. Al held the pole, and Ed just looked boredly at the fog. After about an hour, the line on Al's pole began to wiggle. Even though his head was nothing but a solid iron helmet, Edward could still see the excitement on Al's face. He thought it was a bit stupid, but Al was still just a kid, so Ed could sympathize with the feeling of accomplishing anything at that age.

"I caught something!" Al exclaimed.

"Well, if it's another mine, just throw it back."

Al ignored him and kept on reeling. Whatever was dangling on the end of the rod came over the side and flopped on the deck.

"Look, Ed!" Al said, holding it up.

"I see it, and it looks like it would make some pretty good fish sticks," said Edward, realizing he hadn't eaten since yesterday.

Al just looked at him with what he guessed was disgust. "We're not going to eat it! We're throwing it back!" He put his armored fingers into the fish's mouth, yanked out the hook and threw it over the edge. "There you go, little guy…"

Ed just looked at the water below, a bit disappointed. He finally looked back up and said, "You know, Al, you're really a bigger person than I am."

"What do you mean? I'm no bigger than you are. Well, physically maybe, but…"

"Don't ruin this moment Al," he said through gritted teeth. "But you are a bigger person, metaphorically, I mean. You're always just so positive and happy, always looking out for everything else. How?"

"I don't know. I'm just never really negative. It would just be stupid to go around grieving about everything."

"Well, I just don't see how you stay so happy. If I was in your condition, I would have killed myself or everyone else by now."

Al looked out at the ocean and sighed. "It's true, for the most part this form is… it's just awful. But I can't just mope around about it, though. I have to focus on the good things about the way I am."

"I guess that's the good thing about you, Al, you were always happy, always smiling. But I have to ask, what could possibly be good about your form?"

"Well for one thing, I don't die unless the seal in my armor is ruined." He flexed his left arm. "I'm also pretty strong. And I'm," Al giggled, "I'm a lot taller than you."

Ed cringed. He hated people making fun of him, but he hated people making fun of his height more than anything.

"Then again, I guess everyone is taller than you," Al laughed.

"You little runt!" Ed yelled, launching himself at Al.

"Little? But I'm bigger than you!" he laughed again.

"STOP THAT!"

Ed and Al wrestled on the deck for the next few minutes. They both constantly used to do this, but they haven't in such a long time. They both fought, laughing the whole time, until Al finally pinned his brother under his foot.

"Had enough?"

"Yeah… you win, I guess."

Al removed his foot and let Edward sit up, and then sit down next to him.

"I remember when we used to do that," Ed gasped, "but I was always the one that got you under foot."

"Yeah, those were the days, huh?"

They both resumed looking blatantly at the ocean. They sat quietly for what must have been for hours, just being happy to know that the other one was there. Finally, Al shifted and asked, "Can I tell you something, brother?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Well," he paused, "I'm really afraid of this place that we're going to."

"Why? I mean, I'm uneasy about it… but not really afraid."

"Because, we know nothing about it. I mean, what if it's dangerous and filled with criminals, or ruled by some tyrant? That whole incident with the mine was enough scare me away from the place. Do we actually want to go to some place that blows people up to warn them?"

"Well, where else can we go? I mean, we don't know what will happen to the countries around Amestris, so we should get as far away as possible. And this is pretty damn far away."

"Well why not Russia? Why not Japan? Why not Africa? Why not somewhere we know about? All I've ever heard about this 'America' has always been awful."

"Look. I promise you, Al, we'll be fin-"

"Thank god, there you kids are!"

The brothers turned and saw the captain rushing through the fog with Mustang. Mustang was now wearing his military coat and alchemical gloves.

He was also holding a machine gun.

"Captain?" yelled Al, standing up. "What's going on? Why does Mustang have that gun?"

"Cuz we gots us a situation!" He yelled. Ed noticed he also had a few guns on him. "We got tangos off the port bow!"

Ed and Al looked at each other confused. "Captain?" Ed inquired after a second. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"He means there's a fucking boat off the front of the ship!" Mustang yelled. "It hailed us on the two-way, and it's from America. It wants to board us!"

"And, this is bad… why?"

"It's got guns all over it!" the captain answered. "Standard Browning .50 cal machine guns, too. Them suckers are nasty! They'll have trained soldiers… maybe even some of them damned navy power armor troops!"

"Power armor troops?" Al asked, sounding scared.

"Like normal troops, but with 2 inch thick ceramic-steel plated automail armor all over 'em! If they mean business AND have some of them, then we're screwed right up our sorry asses!"

"WHAT CAN WE DO?" Al screamed.

"For one, you can quiet down." Mustang replied. "And you can take one of these." He snatched a rifle out of the captain's arms and offered it to Al.

Al just looked at it. He had seen plenty of people killed by these things. Now he was supposed to take one. He had no idea what to do.

"I… I can't take that. I'll never kill anyone."

"You might have to, Al. If not now, maybe in the future." Al still didn't budge. "Look, I know how hard it is to kill someone. Believe me, I've done so on many occasions. But if they shoot and you don't, they could kill us. They could kill you."

Al's hands started to shake. He slowly raised them and touched the piece of wood and steel. He couldn't physically feel it, but the sense of power coming from it was almost tangible. He finally lifted it out of the Colonel's hands. He struggled to get his large armored finger under the trigger guard.

"What the hell?" yelled Ed. "A few hours ago you threw a fish back because you wanted to save the damn thing! Now you're willing to kill another person?"

"Don't throw a bitch-fit, boy," said the captain as he pulled a large pistol out of his belt, "you can have one, too."

"No way. I can't believe Al took one, but I sure as hell won't, not unless my life counts on it."

"Well, you're life does now, kid." He chambered a round and jammed it at Ed. He put his hands at his chest and felt the weapon. He reluctantly took it.

The captain looked the both of them over. Ed's hands were shaking, making the metal in the weapon rattle. Al was just looking at his gun, staring blatantly at the thing he was so reluctant to take. The captain frowned and quietly said "We're fucked."

"Huh?" said Al.

"Oh, nothing."

Suddenly a light shone over the deck about 10 meters away.

"Looks like they're here," said Mustang. "Everyone, find something to hide behind. This could get bad."

"Lets get this shit done!" the captain yelled as he unslung and pumped the shotgun around his shoulder.

"Uh, captain, the point of hiding is to not let them know where we are. You kind of defeated that."

"You certainly did."

All of them swung around and instantly leveled their weapons. A man in a black suit was standing in the middle of the deck.

"How did you get on here?" Mustang yelled.

"We pulled our ship up next to yours and stepped onto the deck. That's a how a boarding procedure works. Now, put down your weapons and everything will be fine."

"Who are you?" asked Al.

"Oh, right. Where are my manners? I am Mr. Burke, head of the Secret Service of the United States of America."

"Why is someone in your position out here to board a boat?"

"I was out here for another reason. I was just at the right place at the right time. Now can we cut this short? Just drop your weapons and come with us."

"Or what?" yelled Edward. "There's four of us and one of you! We could kill you right now if we wanted to!"

"That's a very stupid plan, kid," said a booming voice from behind. A cold piece of steel was forced into the back of Ed's skull, and there was a lot of clicking. Ed smelled tobacco. He slowly looked back and saw a tall black man in a large metal suit, smoking a cigar, wearing a hat of some sort. He was accompanied by two more people in the same suits, but with metal helmets, holding assault rifles.

He was also pointing a revolver straight at Ed's face.

"That's Commander Avery of the 762nd Powered Assault Battalion. You'd be wise to follow his orders."

"NOW DROP YOUR FUCKING GUNS!" Avery yelled.

"Make me!" screamed Al, swinging the rifle and pointing it at the armored man's face.

"I wouldn't do that," Burke said, pulling a pistol out of his jacket and aiming it at Al.

"Shut the hell up!" the captain yelled, grabbing the pistol from Ed and pointing it at him. He took the shotgun one handed and pointed it at one of the armored soldiers behind the Avery. Mustang leveled the machine gun at the other one.

No one moved. With the exception of Edward, everyone had a gun pointed at someone, and no one was about to do anything but keep them pointed in the same direction. Everyone could smell the tobacco burning from Avery's cigar. The bitter-sweet aroma hung in the air like the fog around them.

Then all hell broke loose.

It wasn't clear who shot first. Bullets flew in all directions. Miraculously, it seemed that no one was hit. Al flipped his gun around and smashed the butt into Avery's jaw. He staggered back and Al, Ed, Mustang, and the captain ran and hid behind a nearby shipping container. Mustang peaked his gun around the corner without aiming and let loose a spray of bullets. All the while, the soldiers and Burke returned fire, finding their own objects to hide behind. Edward, left without a gun, clapped his hands together and then to the deck. He swung his arm in the direction of one of the armored soldiers, and a hail of spikes formed from the deck and flew at him. One hit him in the leg, one in the chest, and another in the shoulder. His armor seized up and he fell to the deck. Al rounded the opposite corner and fired rounds wildly. One hit the other soldier in the shoulder, spinning him around. Another bullet, either from Al or the captain, hit a metallic pack on his back. His armor failed as well, and he fell to the ground, immobile.

"We have to get out of here!" Al yelled, jamming a clip into the gun's receiver and pulling the hammer.

"Great idea, genius!" Ed yelled sarcastically.

"Don't yell at me, I'm already under enough pressure!"

"Well where the fuck are we supposed to go?"

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE HELL UP?" Mustang roared.

"We have to get to their ship!" yelled the captain.

"WHAT?" roared Ed. "You want to go where the soldiers are WAITING for us?"

"If there were more troops on board, they'd already be here! That boat is the only hope we have of getting out of here alive!"

"What about the carrier?"

"This piece of shit? I don't care about it, I just jacked it from the port back in Amestris! They can blow the damn thing sky high for all I care!"

"But-"

"ED, SHUT UP!" Mustang yelled. "Let's just get to the ship!"

They eyed the next crate a few meters away.

"We go one at a time!" Mustang yelled. He gestured at Al, then the crate. "Go!"

Al clumsily rushed from one crate to the next, squeezing off a few shots at their assailants. He slid the last few feet into cover.

"Alright, Ed, you next!" He waited a second, and then repeated the gesture with a "Go!"

Ed ran the few meters between the container and the crate. During the last few feet, however, a stray bullet rammed straight into his lower hip. It pierced through flesh and bone, flying out the other side of his right leg and hitting his left automail leg. Edward fell to the ground with a cry of pain.

"BROTHER!" Al cried. He reached out and grabbed his brothers shaking arms and pulled him behind the crate.

"Brother, are you ok?" Al yelled.

"He-he-he sho-shot m-me," Edward stuttered. "Th-the mo-mother fucker sh-shot me in the ass!"

"No, no, no, NO! Please, don't die!" His voice cracked mid-sentence.

"I'll b-be fi-fine. Ju-just get t-to the sh-ship."

"Holy shit, kid, I saw that!" said the captain. Al hadn't noticed, but him and Mustang had crossed over from the shipping container. He pumped the shotgun and fired a shot around the corner. "Got one right in the ass! That must've felt pretty!"

Al reached up and punched the captain in the face. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? HE COULD DIE!"

"He won't die, asshole," said the captain as he rubbed his face. "He was shot in his ass. The only thing really hurting him is the shock of being shot. He'll be fine by tomorrow, provided any of us live that long, that is."

"Give him a break," Mustang said. He turned around the corner, fired a few rounds, and came back. "Ed is his only family. I would have been mortified if that was me."

"Fine. I'm sorry. You want a kiss? Just pick him up and let's get out of here!"

Al gave the captain a glare that could cut through steel and picked up Edward, slinging him over his shoulder. He picked up his rifle and turned towards the next bit of cover.

"You go first," he said. The captain stepped forward, but Al stopped him. "Not you!"

Mustang ran to the next shipping container over. The captain started before Mustang was behind it.

"Al, come on!" Mustang yelled.

Suddenly a green metal ball clanked onto the deck in front of Al. His eyes (Or the red energy orbs that existed in place of eyes) widened as he realized what it was.

"Punt it, dumb ass!" the captain shouted.

Al started running towards the container. Within the first few steps he kicked the grenade back toward Avery and Burke. It rolled off the edge of the deck and blew up.

"I see the boat!" yelled Al once he was over. He pointed the rifle at a vague shape off the side of the deck. "Let's just rush it!"

"Agreed." said Mustang. He squeezed off the last few rounds in the machine gun's ammo belt and threw it on the ground. He grabbed the pistol from the captain's belt and checked the slide.

"Alright," said the captain. "One… two… three!"

They all ran for the boat. Mustang took potshots with the pistol and a few bullets clanked off of Avery's armor. He looked around and scooped up one of fallen troops assault rifles. He shot the weapon fully automatic from the hip, sending bullets flying everywhere. A few rounds smacked into Al, riddling holes in his iron body. Another hit Edward in the left arm, still slung over Al's shoulder. He cried out in pain.

"ED!" Al screamed. "Are you ok?"

"NO I'M NOT FUCKING OK!" He yelled. "I JUST GOT SHOT IN THE GOD DAMN ARM!"

"We're almost there! You're going to be fine, Ed!"

"I KNOW BUT IT STILL HURTS GOD DAMN IT!"

"Please be ok…" Al whispered, his voice cracking again.

The fog was clearing in front of them, revealing the boat. Despite the situation, they couldn't help but notice how odd it was. It was a platform sitting above two blades that rested on the water, with another block underneath the upper platform that was probably a lower deck. How it worked intrigued the captain, but right now not dying was most important to him.

Suddenly someone ran out of the cabin on top of the boat, carrying a huge minigun. The gun made a booming-grinding sound as it fired, but luckily enough their assailant couldn't hit anything with the heavy weapon. Mustang threw his pistol to the ground and shouted loudly. He opened his right hand, revealing a transmutation circle on the palm of his glove. A ball of fire formed in his hand, which he threw at the man on the boat. It hit its target spot-on, exploding on contact. The remainder of him and the minigun fell to the deck. All of them reached the ledge and jumped onto the opposing boats deck at the same time. Mustang and the captain made it.

Al didn't.

Al tried to grip the deck, but he was too heavy. With the additional weight of Edward's body he couldn't grip the deck with just one hand. He managed to somehow get Ed up onto the boat before plunging into the icy waters. His dense iron body wouldn't let him swim for a second. That didn't really matter, though, because he had never learned how to.

"HELP!" he screamed. Mustang leaped to the edge and grabbed onto Al's hand before he sunk. The captain leaned down and got his other hand.

"Damn it kid, you got to loose some weight!" the captain yelled, obviously struggling.

"And how would I do that, jackass? I'm a 500 pound suit of solid fucking iron!" Al yelled, infuriated and terrified.

They managed to pull him up onto the deck after much struggling. Al just laid there for a second, letting the water leak out of his armor.

"Al…" Ed said, weary from blood loss. "Did you just… did you just swear?"

"Yeah," Al chuckled a little, "I guess I did."

"I've never… never heard you do that before."

Suddenly the gravity of the situation hit Al… along with a bullet. Burke was looking over the edge of the carrier, firing his pistol. The captain grabbed his shotgun and rounded it on him. He took the man down with a one shot. Burke hit the deck, but he may have still been alive. They weren't about to stick around to figure out.

"Captain!" Mustang barked. "Get us the hell out of here!"

The captain ran to the cabin that the now smoldering corpse came out of. They could all hear a loud roar as the boat's engine came to life.

"Here we go!" the captain yelled. The boat gained speed and the carrier began to get smaller and smaller.

"Oh god, brother!" said Al, looking over at his brother, now unconscious on the deck. He clambered up and crawled over to Ed. He leapt up and cradled his brother in his arms.

Al was scared. In the last 20 minutes, he had been shot and almost drowned, and his brother was shot twice. Ed was loosing blood, and might have been shot somewhere vital. Al was trying to keep it down, but he was on the verge of tears. He had no idea what to do, and his brother, the only thing he had left, could die in minutes. He realized he was shaking, making his armor rattle.

"Mustang!" he shouted, snapping out of it. Mustang looked over and saw him holding his unconscious brother. "W-what do I do?"

"Get him below deck," he said. "There'll be medical supplies down there. I'll be down in a second."

Al simply nodded and stood up. He rushed over to the staircase and disappeared down the stairs.

"Why you holding up, Colonel?" the captain asked.

"Because," he said, "I have to sit down for a second."

Mustang stumbled over to the railing on the side of the deck and sat down. He turned around and watched the carrier, now a vague box shape amidst the dark fog, getting smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared from view.


	3. Mr Burke

"GOD DAMNIT!" Burke yelled, clutching his chest as he got himself off the moist steel deck. He looked out at the ocean and saw his ship disappear into the fog. He looked around and saw his gun. He picked it up stuffed it in his jacket, taking time to grab a cigarette and lighter. He stuck it into his mouth and lit it. Frustrated with the situation, he just threw the lighter off the edge of the ship.

"Mr. Burke, you ok?" said Avery as he stomped over to Burke, still chewing on his cigar. His heavy armored suit made a large clanking noise with each step.

"Yeah…" he said, taking a breath. "Yeah I'm fine. What about you and the boys?"

"They're fine, their armor just locked up. The only casualty was Smitty on the boat."

"Can you drive this carrier?"

"Yup."

"Then we can get out of here." He inhaled the cigarette's smoke. "Did you see me shoot that person in the armor?"

"Yeah, and I loaded him up with lead. But he didn't die, it didn't even affect him. And when he spoke, it sounded like he was a kid. How is that even possible?"

"I don't think there was a kid in that armor. I think that the armor was the kid. I think something happened to him and he got his soul bound to it."

"Who outside of America would do that? Human transmutation is illegal in every other country."

"I think the other boy may have. Did you see how he used alchemy without a transmutation circle? Even the one that threw the fireball had one on his glove."

"How could a child be that powerful?"

"I think I might know, but I could be wrong. But I think he might be just what we need to achieve our goal. Which means this is one thing we don't report to the Service."

"What about the prisoner?"

"Forget about him. If we get that kid, not even he can stop us." He inhaled another puff of tobacco. "Get your men out of that armor. We need to figure out where those kids are going."


	4. The Prisoner

Al practically jumped down the stairs. He looked around the room frantically for something to help. There were a few tables. He eyed one right next to a white box on the wall. With one swipe, he knocked all of the items on it to the floor. He gently lowered his brother to the table and gently tapped on his face.

"Wake up… wake up…" he said quietly. "WAKE UP!" He yelled, smacking his brother across the face. Nothing. He leaned down to Edward's chest and listened. He heard his heartbeat and breathing. He could be relieved that he was still alive. He turned to the white box on the wall. It had a red cross on it. He fiddled with the latch on top, trying to getting it open to no avail. Beginning to get angry, he clenched it and began to pull on it.

"Al, stop." Al spun around and saw Mustang. "You're not going to open it like that, you'll need the key."

"Well where is it?" he asked. "I don't see any keys!"

"Check the bottom deck, it might be there."

"Alright…" he said, trying to calm down. "Alright."

Al walked down the stairs. This deck was different. It had cells and desks. It even had a single lane shooting range along the back. It was like a small prison. He walked to the first desk and started searching it. He sifted through the drawers, finding notes, books and a silenced pistol.

"Hey, you."

Al reactively grabbed the gun and spun around, pointing it at where the mysterious voice came from. He saw a man sitting it one of the cells, looking at him.

"Who are you?" asked Al.

The man looked at him strangely, obviously taken aback by his voice. "I'm John. Who are you, and why are you here?"

"I'm… I'm Al." He lowered the gun. "We were attacked by these people on our ship. We overtook them and stole their boat. But they shot my brother, and now he's unconscious. I came down looking for a key to the medical case upstairs."

"That's quite a situation you've got there." He stood up and walked to the cell door. "Didn't really ask for that much information but… you said you need medical help?"

"No, it was my brother. He was shot. I don't even know what to do if I can get the stupid thing open."

"Well, I'm something of a doctor. Or at least I was."

"Really?" He said, beginning to look up. "So you can help me?"

"Not from in here, I can't. You have to get me out."

Al looked through the desk, but couldn't find a key. Eventually he gave up and walked over to the door. He raised the pistol at the lock and emptied the clip into it. The door swung open.

"Thanks," John said. "Now, let's see if we can help your brother."

Al dropped the gun and walked upstairs with John. Mustang was hovering over Edward, who was still unconscious.

"Al, did you-" He asked, before pausing. "Who the hell is this?"

"This is John. He was in a holding cell downstairs. He says he can help Ed."

"Wait, you met him 5 minutes ago, and you trust him to save your brother's life?"

"I don't have a choice! Even if we can get into the medical case, we don't know how to use the supplies. If he doesn't do anything, he could die anyway."

Mustang sighed. He hated to admit it, but Al was right. "Fine, but I'm staying down here to make sure everything is ok."

"Me too," said Al.

"No. No one can stay down while I do this."

"Why? I just want to be sure everything will be fine."

"You have my word, I won't kill him. I don't even know who you people are, why would I do anything bad to him?"

"Why would you help us?"

John thought of a response for a second. "I'm drawing a blank," he said after a second. "Fine. Al, you can stay, but not the other one. But I'm warning you, things might get a little… well, you'll see."

"Fair enough," Mustang agreed. "Al, if anything happens, just yell."

"I think I'll be ok."

"I just want to be sure."

Mustang walked upstairs and Al sat down on one of the tables.

"Kid, throw me that box," John said, pointing next to Al.

"What's in it?" Al asked, box already in the air. "Bandages?"

"No, cigarettes." He caught the pack and took out one of the white sticks. "I haven't had one in days."

"For a doctor, that's a really unhealthy thing to do."

"I'm not a real doctor, I just know how to help people."

John stuck the cigarette in his mouth. He looked around for a lighter, but couldn't find anything. He shrugged, and raised his finger to the cigarette. Then he did something Al had never seen anyone do before. His finger burst into flame, lighting the cigarette. He then shook the flame away.

Al's eyes widened, and he stood up. "How did you do that?" He asked, suddenly amazed and terrified.

"It's alchemy."

"No, that's not alchemy. I know alchemy, I do it nearly every day. But I always need a transmutation circle. Even my brother presses his hands together to create one. What you just did is… it's just impossible!"

"Look, your brother is bleeding out, and he will die. If I don't start working right now, you're going to be an only child."

"No, I won't… you can't… HOW?"

"I'll explain later, just let me fix him!"

Al had no idea what to do. As soon as he lit that cigarette, Al wanted nothing more than to get away from him. If John didn't help, Edward would die. But if he stayed, he had no idea what might happen.

"Fine. But don't do anything else."

"I wasn't planning on it."

John raised his hands and let them hover above Edward. A white glow began to materialize over him. Al couldn't help but get close. He saw the blood on Ed's shirt and around the table seep back into his wounds. He could hear an odd cracking noise. Al raised his head and looked at John, wondering what it was.

"His bones are mending," he said without even looking up.

Al looked back down to see the bullet holes in Ed's skin soldering back together. John lowered his hands back down to his sides. Al looked all over his brother's body. The holes were still in his coat, but there was nothing, not even a scar anywhere on his body. He once again listened to his chest, and was relieved to hear a heartbeat and breathing.

"He'll wake up in a few hours," John said.

"Ok," Al replied. He turned to John. "Now, how the hell did you do that?"

"Well, sit down, this might take a while explain."

Both of them sat down on opposing tables. John puffed on his cigarette.

"Well, where do I begin? I'm assuming you've heard of truth."

"Well yes, but how do you know-"

"Because, you would have had to know what truth is. It's the only way to become what you are."

"What do you mean? I'm a perfectly normal human being."

"Do you really think I believe that? That voice in a 7 foot tall suit of armor is enough to tell me what you are…" He puffed on the cigarette again. "…and what you've done."

Al looked at the ground. "I… I don't like to talk about that."

"I can understand why. I'm assuming it's why your brother is half robot, too."

Al looked up, confused. "What's a robot? Oh, never mind. You're right, though. It took his leg when he did it, but it took my whole body. He sacrificed his arm to bind my soul to this armor."

"I see. So you saw what was on the other side?"

"I guess, but I have no memory of it."

"Sad. You could be just like me. But you said you're brother can just clasp his hands together and make a transmutation circle?"

"Yeah, but he can only do it after he assumes a certain pose."

"Still, that's pretty impressive. Apparently he remembers what he saw."

"Most of it. He said he saw more, but couldn't remember some of it."

"I remember all of it. That's how I use alchemy at will."

"So, how did you enter through truth? Human transmutation?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't remember. The first thing I've ever seen was the infinite white void of truth. Or at least it's the first thing I remember seeing. I knew how to talk, so I must have existed before that time."

"That's… it's weird. I'm not sure weather to be amazed or feel sorry for you."

"Don't feel bad for me, I'm happy the way I am. I've been alive for nearly 200 years without aging because of it, and I've been loving almost all of it. I can do things no human could ever dream of." He puffed the cigarette once more. "Of course, it hasn't all been fun. I wasn't the only person to be created like this."

"Really? Who else?"

"There's only one other person I know of. I don't know his name, but I know he means business. I've only encountered him a few times, but each encounter has nearly killed both of us."

"That makes no sense, though. Why would you two fight each other? If you're both so powerful, what point is there in conflict?"

"I tried to convince him. But for every good person, there's always another one that's evil. And I'm not even that good of a person."

"You saved my brother. What bad things have you done?"

"Why do you think I was in that cell? I killed a few people, stole from some places, and that's not the end of it."

"If you're such a bad person, why did you help us?"

"I'm not a bad person, I just do bad things. It doesn't matter." John looked up at the stairs. "Look, I don't feel like talking anymore. You'll see me again, but right now, I'm going to have to leave."

"What are you talking about? How are you going to leave?"

Ignoring Al, John got up and walked toward the stairway. He patted Al on the shoulder on his way past. He walked up the stairs and onto the upper deck. Al couldn't resist following after him. He climbed the stairway and looked around the deck.

There was no one there.

"Al…"

Al turned around and saw Mustang standing behind him.

"Is Ed going to be fine?" he asked

"Yeah," Al replied. "John said he'd be fine."

"Good. Hey, speaking of John, where is he? I want to talk to him."

Al looked around the deck and out to the ocean. Finally he just said, "I really don't know."


End file.
